I Am the Empty Condo.

I, a professional model, clearly have my shit together. Photo taken by my professional photographer girlfriend.

Yesterday I went to two open houses in the middle of downtown Chattanooga with my girlfriend, Jo. I have to make a couple things clear:

1. We are in no position to even rent an apartment together.

2. We have no intentions of moving in together for at least the next year and a half.

3. I have $90 in my bank account.

The open houses were lovely. The cookies were a major plus to our impromptu drop-ins. The condos were awesome: in one of my favorite neighborhoods, close to restaurants, and in a safe area. One was bigger and better, while the other was smaller, vacant, and a completely blank slate with just enough room for half of my belongings to comfortably fit inside, not including myself. I liked it, but I didn’t love it.

We went to these open houses solely because we like adventures and my girlfriend knows I love interior design, home decor, and thinking far into the future so I can neglect my current responsibilities just enough to wake up in a cold sweat at three a.m. We had to put on a big show to the real estate agents and other interested parties that we were on the market and financially stable. And not in college. And able to spend more than ten dollars on lunch. It was the performance of a lifetime.

I felt like a phony.

I spend a lot of my time thinking about the future, no matter how far-off and unattainable it is. Lately, I’ve been at a crossroads like no other. I may not have my job in the fall, as my current position has fallen through, and with it, my housing has also disappeared out from under me. Dorm life just isn’t for me, but it looks like it may be my only option for the next two semesters. I still do not have a summer job, but I continue to apply for at least one position a day and have a growing list of employers I am waiting to hear back from. (Answer me, dammit!) Lastly, my classes next semester are extremely important to my GPA and I’m constantly afraid of failing in one subject or another. I feel really lost, and I did not realize it would happen this soon.

Of the two condos we checked out, I envision myself as the two bedroom, furnished, perfect-view condo with the pristine blue door and balcony. In reality, I am the one bedroom, washer-dryer in the tiny closet, less attractive option no matter what I seem to do to increase my value. I am trying to convince myself that that’s okay. If that’s my current reality, so be it. I need to furnish my condo with whatever tools I currently have.

After a really long day of crying into a bowl of salad, lamenting about how bad my day has been, how confusing my life has become, and not knowing where I will be in five months, I took a step back and looked at my condo:

• I have impeccable grammar and writing skills. Always have, always will.

• I excel in my classes and glean a wide variety of information from my courses, so I’m a well rounded person.

• I have a LinkedIn where I enjoy adding people I do not know, but they look nice. At least I’m outgoing on LinkedIn.

• I apply for jobs I may never hear back from, but I keep at it with endless determination.

• I sort out a lot of my problems on my own, with little guidance from my parents or other adults, because only I really understand my current state of being.

• I’m sorta funny, when I want to be.

• I studied for my accounting exam for at least two hours. A world record, indeed.
  

I am not the furnished, move-in-ready condo that I want to be. But even that condo started out as a construction site with exposed beams and jagged angles before it became so desirable.

Being the empty condo gives me room to improve, to paint my walls and decorate however I wish.

If a company doesn’t call me back regarding my interest in their coveted internship program, they’re missing out on my skills and knowledge. If I fail my accounting exam, at least I am taking a class that would have scared the hell out of me two years ago. If I don’t snag the perfect living situation, I can still grow flowers with the small beam of sunlight I have available.